The Raven & the Writing Desk
by Persephatta
Summary: "Diaval, give me back that quill or so help me, I will pluck a new one from your feathers!" He paused. "That's awfully violent of you." - Aurora is busy with paperwork but Diaval doesn't like being ignored. Diaval/Aurora (Diavora).


**Disclaimer: ****I do not own 'Maleficent' or anything to do with it.**

**pre-established Diaval/Aurora (although I have no idea how that happened).**

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"It's Sir Diaval!"

"Sir Diaval!"

Sir Diaval, otherwise known as the Black Knight, was very popular amongst the ladies of the court and the simple mention of him could send them into a frenzy. He was everything that could make a woman swoon: tall, dark, handsome and ever so mysterious.

The whispers rose as he strode through the corridor, keeping his gaze fixed ahead, paying no notice to the fawning ladies that were giggling to one another; batting their eyelids and sending flirty smiles as he passed.

"Isn't he dreamy," one lady sighed to her friends, "You just want to run your hands through that lush midnight hair."

"I'd like to be the one who gets to rub those broad shoulders of his," another woman said, eyeing him up as he went. "And maybe that toned chest."

"Oh but why stop there," a third, bolder than the others, spoke. "I'd like to rip those black leather pants right off him."

This caused a few scandalous gasps which quickly turned to sniggers.

"Mmm," the second mumbled, "He's always in black, so mysterious."

"Well he is the Black Knight," the first pointed out. "But he's not really a knight… I mean he's not part of the Queen's army."

"That's because he's of the Moors," the second said smartly, "Besides, he's more the Queen's personal bodyguard."

"I wouldn't mind having him guard my body," the third remarked.

"All those scars," the first sighed dreamily, "He must have faced some horrific perils to get them."

"He's so brave," the second cooed, "I'd like to kiss each one better."

The third shrugged, "I'd rather lick them."

The gaggle burst into giggles.

Despite the pretence Diaval was not oblivious to the attention he drew and he had good enough hearing to pick up on much of the gossip. Whilst he found it greatly amusing and had to fight to stop a smirk from splitting his face, he was not interested in fulfilling any of their fantasies.

He was aware of the many rumours in which he seduced and bedded random ladies of the court, and whilst he knew if he wanted he could probably make such fiction a reality but the truth was he'd no such desire. Whilst he knew many human men – especially these so called _noble_men – would leap at the opportunity for repeated nightly liaisons without needing to make any sort of commitment, Diaval was not such a man.

In fact, he wasn't really even a man, but a raven. And raven's mated for life.

He did wonder if these women would be so eager to fall into bed with him if they knew of his other form. Whilst the court was aware the Queen had many pets, all dark colouring, which seemed to come and go as they pleased, very few knew that they were connected as one being.

With her wings returned, Maleficent had freed him of his servitude (which was a nice way of saying she no longer needed him) but left him with the ability to shift shapes at will. Of course, this came with a catch; he was to use his "freedom" and newly gifted powers to continue with the duty he'd been serving for so long now.

As Maleficent couldn't live in the human kingdom she would have to leave the care of her Beastie in that hands of her most trusted ally (and friend, though she still wouldn't admit it). He supposed it went without saying that he would've done so anyway. After spending so much time watching over the child (whom he'd had the pleasure of seeing become a woman) protecting her had become his life purpose.

And besides, why would he refuse the chance to see _her _every day? In truth, Maleficent had given him the perfect excuse to be close to the woman he loved.

Thus he became her almost constant companion; shifting forms to whatever best suited her needs.

At her side he was a fearsome wolf. Not the subtlest of creatures and by far his most loathed but it allowed him to wander the palace without question, and also provided him the pleasure of startling any potential suitors into wetting themselves in fright. Plus he really liked it when she scratched behind his ear.

Whenever she wished to journey to the Moors or somewhere else or simply go riding, he was a beautiful black stallion, streaking across the landscape with her upon his back; golden hair streaming behind her like sunlight ribbons. He had no idea what they looked like to others but he thought the sight must be magnificent; the palace artist had actually started work on piece based on such an image.

If some foolish ruler ever thought to declare war on a Queen who ruled two kingdoms of human and fae and was the ward of a fiercely powerful fairy, then he would become a dragon and roast any army alive. He hadn't quite had the opportunity yet but every time a foolish courtier decided it was okay to lower his hand on the Queen's back just a little further during a waltz, he was tempted to practice his frying technique.

And of course he was an ever watchful raven; perching on windowsills and circling the skies, he kept a bird's eye on her when close proximity was not an option. He would go unnoticed to most and of course it was rather sentimental, considering it was as the "Pretty Bird" she'd first know him. This was his natural form.

Yet he found himself driven more and more to take that of a man and not just in privacy either. Normally he'd stick to guarding her in the inconspicuous form of an animal whilst under watchful eyes then transforming into the only form that allowed them to converse when in private. However, they'd both become bolder and often he would stroll the castle as another human; neither bothering to hide the bond they shared.

And thus the story of Sir Diaval, the Queen's personal bodyguard from the Moors had been born.

Tongues instantly wagged.

Who was this Diaval? Why did he have the honour of being the Queen's _personal_ bodyguard? What did that even involve? They seemed a little too close, if you ask me. Ooh scandal!

From the Moors? But this handsome man couldn't possibly be a part of those ugly creatures? But maybe he wasn't handsome at all! Maybe it was all an illusion! A trick! He couldn't be trusted. How dare a subject of the Moors cross into their kingdom! There may be peace now but that didn't give them a right to start moving in. Eventually they'd be taking over the place! We should have gotten rid of the Moor dwellers when we had the chance. King Stefan had the right idea.

Of course such outrage had been calmed by the people's growing love for their benevolent Queen, as well as a few wise words from the more level-headed members of the court that were held in high enough esteem to be listened to. Such as the respected Lord Maurice, Head of Trade, and his daughter – now the Queen's lady-in-waiting – who had acted as both guides and friends to Aurora when she'd first arrived in court, and were quick to dispel any unpleasant rumours.

But more importantly – as loathed as Diaval was to admit – it had been the efforts of Prince Phillip that really put the court at rest. By vouching for Diaval as an honourable man, he had prevented any chance of scandal breaking out. It was a commendable act by the Prince, especially as he and Diaval were hardly on hospitable terms. And it made Diaval dislike him more, as it made him harder to dislike.

Seriously, it was bad enough that Diaval had to compete with a _prince_ for Aurora's affection! He didn't want Phillip proving himself a good person as well. Honestly, how could the boy be so kind and selfless? It was maddening!

Although with recent events and advancements in his relationship with Aurora, Diaval no longer felt so tense in the Prince's presence. No longer needing to feel jealous. In fact, whilst he doubted they would be becoming friends any time soon, he supposed he might start not entirely disliking the guy.

He'd at least stopped shitting in his soup.

Anyway the matter stood that he could now be Sir Diaval and what other form he wished in public, whilst just Diaval behind closed doors.

And so, he shut the door behind him as he entered into the Queen's private study. Had it been her chambers then he would've had to have done so either as a bird or mutt to avoid too many raised eyebrows. But in her study, well, no one could turn their nose up at a little studious interest – and he was meant to be a personal bodyguard, close contact came with the job.

Finally he could drop the mask and allow his natural slanting smile to slip across his face; it grew as he took in the sight before him.

She was hunched over the desk, scribbling franticly on scroll after scroll, only pausing briefly to dip her quill in the pot of ink beside her. Elegant fingers were smudged with bluey-black stains and there was a similar mark on her nose, likely caused by an absentminded scratch. Her hair was a little disarrayed but otherwise piled upon her head in a slowly sinking bundle.

She was adorable …and beautiful, always beautiful.

Moreover, she hadn't seemed to have heard him come in and thus he decided he would surprise her; his smile turning sly. Carefully, with naturally skilled stealth, he crept up behind her; keeping close to the walls so not to catch the corner of her eye.

Her back was to him now; he took another few silent steps forward, holding his breath so not to alert her. He stretched out a hand, lowering it to her shoulder.

"Don't even think about it, Diaval"

The tone was stern and he instantly retracted his hand, feeling scolded. She continued working, never looking up but he now knew she was acutely aware of his presence.

"How did you know- ?"

"Detecting your presence has become something of a sixth sense to me."

He smiled; pleased to know how much he affected her senses. She was already capable of recognising him regardless of what form he was in; and he liked that she knew him well enough to do so no matter the disguise. He sometimes wondered if he'd be able to do the same if their roles were reversed; but he knew he could never not recognise those wonderstruck sky eyes.

"So," he drawled, irked that said eyes had yet to glance his way. "Whatcha doing?"

"Reviewing reports, authorising laws, etcetera, etcetera," she answered, quill never slowing.

Diaval raised an eyebrow, "Sounds boring."

"Mmhmm."

He frowned, disappointed by her lack of response. Feeling awkward just standing there he began to flip through the carefully stacked piles of paper to her left.

_Report. Report. Farming Legalisation. Report. Royal Decree. Report. Report. Invitation to Prince Derek's Ball._

Diaval scowled at the Prince's name. Maybe he might accidentally lose this one; dealing with one pretty boy was enough, thank you very much.

"Don't."

Diaval froze; poised to toss the invite out the window.

"Put it back."

His face fell at her stern tone. God, when did she become so much like Maleficent? He thought he'd raised her better than that.

Grudgingly he placed the invite back into the pile. Fine, if she wanted to go to the Prince's Ball; he just hoped she realised she'd be ticking the 'plus one' box.

"Come on, Rora," he coaxed, edging closer to the chair, "Take a break, have some fun."

"I can't, Diaval," Aurora sighed heavily, her weariness showing. "I need to get this done. It's my responsibility as queen. I must fulfil it in order to prove myself a great and worthy ruler."

She sounded so mature, not at all like the girl he would get into pillow wars with. Yes, pillow _wars_ not fights – the maids still didn't understand how their Queen had managed to upturn her bed and turn it into a fort.

He rolled his eyes. He hated it when she went into diligent ruler mode; it meant no fun until the job was done. And that took _ages_. Sometimes being a good Queen was really annoying.

"Everyone knows you're a good ruler, you have nothing to prove," he insisted earnestly.

In the last three years the kingdom had been turned around much for the better. Now that they were at peace with the Moors their resources could be used for more pressing matters like caring for the people and manufacturing welfare supplies. Through Aurora the kingdom had flourished from its iron fist days to a time of peace, prosperity, culture and celebration.

The kingdom was thankful to have a monarch as great and kind as Aurora persistently proved. Diaval had no doubt in her ability or her people's love. So why did she?

"Maybe not to you or my people," Aurora conceded looking glum, "But to the Council I'm still a naïve little girl."

Diaval scowled. Of course it was the Council; they never had anything good to say.

He'd always thought the Council a bunch of power-crazed snivelling fools who knew very little of what they preached. Yes, there were a few good members like Lord Maurice, but mostly they were just a pack of misogynistic men who believed a woman wasn't capable of ruling alone no matter how able she proved herself.

They'd been pushing Aurora to find herself a husband since she inherited the throne, and were awfully disappointed when the possibility of marriage between Phillip and her fell through. They'd become even more grumbly when they stared to realise just how close she and Diaval were, or how little the kingdom minded.

He remembered listening in on that particular meeting.

"_But she can't marry a Moor-dweller!"_

"_Why not," Lord Maurice queried, "Queen Leila married a peasant and thief."_

_The Council member scowled, "Yes but he had proved himself worthy by supposedly slaying that heinous Maleficent whom the Queen misguidedly claims as her godmother!"_

_Lord Maurice raised an eyebrow, "Then surely the Queen has proved herself even more worthy by creating peace between the two kingdoms and ensuring Maleficent is no longer a threat to us. If anything the Queen has earned the right to love whoever she chooses; does it even matter, as long as she produces an heir?"_

_More grumbles. _

"_It does if she gives birth to some winged freak," the previous council member muttered under his breath. _

_He gave an indignant shout as bird poop splattered on his head. Blasted raven!_

"The Council is stupid."

At last Aurora looked at him, albeit in disbelief. "You can't say that! If they were stupid they wouldn't be on the Council."

"You'd be surprised how far a stupid person can go in this world," he muttered, having seen many a fool ascend into power. Her face lightened and she gave him a knowing look.

"You're just saying that because you think all humans are stupid."

"No I don't," he denied with conviction. "You're not stupid."

Aurora's smile widened. Strange how that never failed to increase the speed of his heartbeat.

"Of course not; I'm friends with you, aren't I?"

She had nice white teeth; such a pretty smile.

"Oh? Just a friend?" He leaned forward, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

She giggled, shoving him back playfully. He remained steady; she wasn't strong enough to knock him down. Instead he leaned further forward; his breath ghosting her lips, her own hitching.

"Would a friend do this?"

He lowered his head; eyelids drifting down as hers did the same. He could feel the heat radiating from her trembling lips, and moved to seal the kiss.

He collided with her cheek instead.

His eyes snapped open, pulling back in surprise. She'd turned her head at the last moment, looking away from him and back at the desk.

"I need to finish this," she apologised, face glowing red. He almost screamed with frustration; tempted to just throw all her papers in the air so she wouldn't be able to continue working.

No. No. NO! No more! He would not be ignored any longer.

He snatched the quill right out of her hand. She gasped and spun to face him.

"Diaval, please return my quill."

"No."

Her face fell, brow furrowing.

"Diaval," she said more severely this time, "Give it back."

"What, dropped the please so quickly?" He mocked, ever so sweetly, "How rude."

He could see she was becoming more and more annoyed as her expression clouded over. Inside he was giggling with glee. Ah, some fun at last.

Maybe it was childish but with her being Queen there were so few opportunities when they could be alone and dammit, he intended to make the most of it!

She jumped to her feet, taking on her most regal pose and holding out her hand.

"As Queen I command you to return my quill to me."

"As the dashing raven-man that I am," he replied smugly, "I refuse."

Something very feral and vicious sounded from her throat.

"Diaval, give me back that quill or so help me, I will pluck a new one from your feathers!"

He paused, looking at her in a new light. "That's awfully violent of you."

She lunged but he dodged; jerking back just in time.

"Tut-tut, it's not nice to snatch."

Aurora glowered, gritting her teeth. "You're one to talk."

She lunged again, just as he planned. His hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist and pulling her flush against his body; his other hand still holding the quill out of her reach. She glared; fighting to keep the blush off her face, knowing it would only further his infuriatingly attractive smile.

Struggling on her tippy-toes, she stretched her arm; fingers straining desperately. No such luck.

Diaval beamed, having no qualms to her straining against him.

"Face it, you're too short."

"Or maybe you're too tall," she sniped, giving up on her efforts, hoping she could burn him with glare alone.

"You've never objected to my size before."

Aurora huffed, a blush tinging her cheeks.

Taking advantage of her momentary distraction, Diaval dropped the quill, wrapping both arms around her waist and spinning them so he landed seated in the chair with Aurora in his lap.

She stared at him, endearingly dumbfound. "What…?"

"Now," he mumbled, nuzzling his nose against her own. "How 'bout a little playtime?"

"Diaval," she whined, trying to escape his grip, "I need to finish my work."

"Fine," he conceded far too easily, causing her to raise an eyebrow in suspicion. He smiled at her, swiftly flipping her round so her back was to him. "You can work and I'll play."

Aurora blinked, unsure of what had just happened. She knew he was up to something, but what?

Hesitantly she reached for her papers, realising a problem.

"I need my quill."

It appeared in front of her. She blinked, wondering how and when he'd picked it off the floor. Cautiously she accepted it, dipping it into the ink pot and continuing where she'd left of.

…_royal declaration… blah, blah, blah… hereby obliged… blah, blah, blah… must be abided… blah blah, blah…_

She squealed as she felt something warm and moist on her skin. The paper flying from her hands and it was lucky she hadn't been holding the quill at the time or ink would have gone everywhere.

"Diaval!" She exclaimed, eyes wide in shock.

"Hmm?" Diaval mumbled against her neck, still pressing kissing.

If he wasn't clasping her waist so tight she would have spun to glare at him. As it were, she could only rely on her words to express how much she disliked (and secretly really liked) his actions.

"I'm trying to work!"

"Yes, and your point is?"

She puffed a lose strand of gold out of her eyes. "Don't distract me."

Diaval smirked lazily, "I make no promises."

She frowned but knew there was little she could do. Instead she tried to just keep calm and carry on; ignoring the delicate pecks at her neck and supressing the building sighs which would only encourage him further.

She could do this. She was the Queen. She just had to focus.

…_good process… blah, blah, blah… tripled production rates… blah, blah, blah… worker finance… blah, blah, blah…_

A sharp bite caused the paper to crumple in her hands, her fingers having clenched too tight. She gasped, shocked and aroused. Damn that bird!

"Diaval!"

"I do so love it when you say my name," he muttered before flicking his tongued across the reddened mark, soothingly.

Aurora tensed, subconsciously craning her neck to allow him better access. He accepted her offering with greedy lips, trailing kisses up and down the exposed crook. He began to edge her sleeve further down her shoulder; exposing more delectable skin to his hungry mouth.

Aurora sighed blissfully; earlier stress vanishing as she relaxed in his touch. Maybe she would never have wings like Diaval, but he always managed to make her feel like she was flying.

One hand slowly drifted up, cupping her breast. She moaned, throwing her head back to rest on his shoulder as he began a gentle caress. If anyone were to see them there would be scandal and it could ruin all her chances at a good suit, but she didn't care. She didn't want to be with anyone that wasn't Diaval anyway.

_Ah, Diaval._

He watched in awe as she mumbled his name – it always sounded so heavenly on her tongue. He never stopped being amazed by how beautiful she was; cheeks flushed with a rosy haze, eyelids flickering with pleasure.

He pressed his lips back to her jaw, travelling higher and higher until they finally met with her own.

In an instant, she had spun from his hold, forcing his hands back to her waist and wrapping her own arms around his neck; fingers enlacing in his hair. Hooded blue stared into him and it no longer mattered what form he was. Raven, wolf, horse, dragon or man. She saw him for what he truly was. _Diaval _– holder of her heart and devoted lover.

Their lips met, joining carefully, moving gently then faster and fiercer until it was a full-on fiery collision. Maybe not a battle or war but rather a heated waltz, a dance they knew and understood, and would perform with the upmost passion.

"_Rora_," he breathed, unable to get over how wonderful she tasted. "_Au-ro-ra_."

His hand tightened on her waist, another lodging itself in her golden locks; sending them tumbling down. Her hands trailed from his hair, over his shoulders and to his chest; slipping under his shirt. She found the place where his heart rested and felt the tremble as it beat.

_I love you. I love you. I love you._ It seemed to say.

She bit down on his bottom lip, extracting a strangled cry from his throat.

"I love you," he said for himself, resting his forehead to hers.

She smiled, raising her hands to cradle his face. Her fingers moved in a gentle caress.

"I love you too, my Silly Bird."

She pressed a kiss to his nose, pulling back with a delighted giggle. He growled lunging forward, engulfing her once again with his heart and soul. She responded eagerly, paperwork now forgotten. They tangled against one another, the chair rocking back and forth as they scrambled to touch and kiss, so desperate to feel as much as they could; pressing closely as if to become one.

"_Diaval!_" Aurora gave a long moan just as the chair toppled.

They dropped to the floor, Diaval hitting the ground first with Aurora falling on top of him. It took a moment for the shock to wear off; silently staring at one another, stunned. Then the laughter burst out.

"Oh my gosh," Aurora exclaimed, "That was amazing!"

Diaval smirked, propping himself up with his elbows. "I am pretty good, aren't I?"

Aurora thwacked his arm and he chuckled, clambering to his feet and helping her do the same. Once standing they stared at each other, eyes alight and hands entwined.

_I love you. I love you too. I love you. I love you too. _They said to each other without words.

Diaval stepped forward, ready to lose himself in another embrace.

He didn't get the chance as a knock sounded at the door. Straightaway, Aurora jumped from him, attempting to smooth her appearance. She sent him a harried look and he rolled his eyes, transforming into his wolf form as a precaution.

Ugh, he hated being a stupid mutt. Although, maybe now he could persuade Aurora to rub his belly.

Righting the chair, Aurora sat down; posing with sophistication, as if she'd been studiously working all this time.

"Enter," she called calmly. Diaval settled at her feet, watching the door.

Aurora almost sighed in relief when she saw who it was. Lord Maurice's daughter stepped inside, opening her mouth to speak before pausing. She stared at her Queen, momentarily confused before her gaze drifted to the dog at her feet. A look of understanding passed through her eyes and then her face returned to its neutral fixture.

"It is time for our music lesson, your majesty," she informed with a little curtsy.

"Yes, thank you," Aurora nodded, remembering. "If you could just wait outside, I'll be a long in a minute."

"As you wish, your majesty," her lady-in-waiting replied, turning to go; however she paused, looking back with an unreadable expression. "It's curious, your majesty. For I could have sworn your hair was up today."

Aurora's eyes widened, realising her mistake. She moved to bundle it back in a bun but the other woman raised a halting hand.

"Best leave it down," she advised, gesturing to her throat, "It'll hide that nasty bite you've acquired. Must have been a bug or something; it looks rather sore."

Diaval snorted at Aurora's horrified expression. _Or something._

"Don't worry; I'm sure no one will notice." Belle assured, unable to resist a smile as she left the room. "Bye Diaval."

Once she was gone and the door shut, Diaval transformed back into a human, cackling widely.

Aurora turned to him, scowling. "It's not funny!"

"Oh it most definitely is!"

"Ugh," Aurora slapped a hand over the love-bite, pouting miserably. "Like the court doesn't already have enough reasons to gossip."

Diaval wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her affectionately. "Let them gossip. It'll just show all those foolish men than you are mine and no one else's."

Aurora raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

His smile widened and he pecked her nose. "Mine."

For a moment she continued to frown, then she grabbed the back of his head and crushed her lips against his. Diaval's head whirled and he stumbled back in shock when she finally released him. It was as if she snatched the smirk right off his face and placed it on her own.

"Mine," she stated simply, leaving the room.

He smiled after her.

"_Yours,_" he whispered, eyes soft and gleaming. "_Always yours_."

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**...so I just started writing and that happened. Hope it was okay? Thanks for Reading :)**


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